


so here we are

by rhubarbgirl



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Ending to S2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Somewhere between the two, kiss and make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6581668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhubarbgirl/pseuds/rhubarbgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I wasn't sure you were coming.'<br/>'Nor was I.'<br/>'I'm glad you did.'<br/>'So am I.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	so here we are

Milady's heart is thudding in her chest, the sound in her ears as loud as the gallop of hooves coming down the road. She all but leaps out of the carriage in a rustle of skirts, and manages to move out of the way of Athos' dark horse just in time. She smiles.

'I wasn't sure you were coming.'

'Nor was I.' He says from his horse, tone unreadable.

With a creak of leather, he dismounts, handing the reins of his horse to Milady's carriage driver.

'I'm glad you did.'

'So am I.'

There's a pause as the two of them regard each other. She can't help but be slightly on guard, but she realises he is too. It's part of their natures now. It fills her with a strange sense of relief. She's not the only one who's changed, it seems.

At once they take a step towards each other. Athos' gaze is as intense as it always was, those blue eyes no longer just haunting but haunted. She looks at him, slowly raises a hand and draws it down the line of his jaw, hairs bristling against her gloves. Suddenly she longs to touch him properly, to feel him in her arms again, skin to skin. He clearly feels the same. She's not sure who moves first, but suddenly they're kissing, an arm is round her waist, a hand is on her neck. At first it's fierce and wild like the last time, when they were hidden in Rochefort's office, but soon something in her softens, and he follows, like they've both remembered they're not stealing a moment. This is it now. He's chosen her. They've chosen each other. They have each other again. Milady is breathless when they finally pull away from each other. Athos' lips quirk in a half smile that she knows is a recent habit, and he opens the carriage door and helps her inside.

The carriage trundles along, bringing them closer to Le Havre. Athos unquestioningly slips his gloved hand into hers, and she presses against him. She shakes her head after a moment, removes her own gloves. He gives a huff of a laugh and does the same. Milady surprises herself in that this is what she wants. Just his hand to hold. To connect him to her once more. She looks at him again, kisses him softly, lets herself relearn him (as if she could ever forget).

They don't talk much. There is both too much and nothing at all to stay. They just look for a long while, until Athos says, voice soft

'What do I call you now? Milady or Anne?'

She thinks for a moment, fiddles with a button on his doublet. He brings his hand up to cup hers, and she notices the calluses on his palm, the scar across the back of his hand. Signs of a soldier's life, earned in a world far from the realm of the Comte de la Fère.

'Milady. We're both different people now, Athos. Maybe we should... embrace that, rather than repeat the past, as it were.'

He nods, solemn.

'You do know that we can't-' He clears his throat. 'It's not going to be like it was.'

She almost wants to laugh. Athos was never a man who was particularly expressive. Oh, he had a way with words, but sometimes they could fail him when he needed them most. (His proposal, memorably, had consisted of three half sentences and a rhetorical question. Fortunately, his kiss had been most expressive.)

'I know. I don't want it to be.' She says, honestly. He smiles at her, a tender, raw thing, and brushes an escaped curl behind her ear.

 _This_ , she thinks. _This is what I want_.

She kisses him again.

 

* * *

 

 

She blinks awake and sees Athos' peaceful-looking face. His jaw is slack with sleep, relaxed in a way that reminds her of their honeymoon days. An errant tuft of hair graces his forehead, and she resists the temptation to smooth it back, not wanting to dislodge him, curled around her as he is. With his arm round her waist, legs tangled with hers, she feels... safe. She feels hopeful.

She hopes the damage they've done isn't irreversible. She isn't a fool; she knows it will colour things and that they'll have to work together to get past it. She knows they are different now, him marred by his guilt and grief, and her sullied by her quest for revenge. But they are still bound to one and another. He is still inextricably _hers_ and she is _his_. Those years without him, she still felt a pull, like something tugging at her heart, like the rope around her neck. She wonders if he felt the same, or whether in his grief he let his attachment to her wither away. With a shudder she dismisses the thought, because he's here now. He came to her. He's leaving Paris, leaving his beloved France who's he's dedicated years of his life to, leaving to be with her.

She turns her head, looks around the sparsely furnished inn room. Her clothes and his uniform are lying in a messy pile on a suspiciously unstable looking chair. The dark, worn leather contrasts with the soft blue yards of silky fabric. It's a good contrast. She'd always felt they balanced each other, in the early days. They were different, most definitely, but they drew things out of the other.

Her eyes land on his pauldron, that proud fleur-de-lis in its centre. Her stomach turns as she realises just how much work Athos put into earning that, into working so hard to protect his country and gain so much respect from his fellow Musketeers. Even when she was working against him, she had to admire his tenacity and hard work, and that of his comrades.

He's giving all that up. For her.

Milady has been selfish for years. She has done things that make her own skin crawl in the name of survival, and sometimes just because she could. She will not apologise for being a monster, because no one apologised for making her one. She cannot change her past, but she is in control now. She is no longer under anyone's thumb. She makes the decisions, and now, she is choosing to compromise.

'Athos.' She says quietly. He stirs immediately, his light sleeping seemingly finely honed as a soldier's need to be alert at any time. He sleepily blinks at her, lips in a small smile, and Milady's whole chest _aches_ with just how much she loves him. She had forgotten how wonderful that ache could be, how powerful and strong it made her feel. With a rustle of sheets, she turns on to her side, clutches his hand in hers.

'Let's stay.' She whispers.

'What, here?' Athos says with a frown. 'I'm not convinced; this bed feels like it's made of rocks.' He smiles as she laughs slightly, then squeezes his hand.

'Be serious.' She says. 'Let's stay in France. Let's go back to Paris.'

His frown is back, a more serious one now.

'But you said-'

'I know what I said.' She sighs. 'But- I've changed my mind. We'll go back to Paris, live in an arrondissement where no one knows us, and start again. Well, I'll start again, but as a Musketeers wife.'

He looks at her for a long moment, eyes searching.

'You're sure?'

'I want _this_.' She says, clutching his hand. 'That's all that matters to me.'

After a moment, he seems satisfied that she's being honest and leans forward to kiss her.

'Thank you' he whispers. She flushes, slightly uncomfortable.

'This isn't just for you.' She says, looking away from him.

'I know.' He says, and draws her to look at him again with a gentle finger under her chin. 'But thank you.'

He softly pushes her onto her back, kissing her as he moves to cover her body with his, and she drags her hands up and down his back, feeling the strong muscle he's gained over the years. He pulls away and whispers an 'I love you' and it's all she can do not to cry out:

 _This. This is what I want_.


End file.
